Walls
by BishYouGuessedIt
Summary: Bruce is once again on the path of self-destruction. Filled with self-hatred, he is tempted to end it all... But Tony just won't let him. (Eventual Tony Banner, but hardly explicit, so no worries.)
1. Chapter 1

**AN**: Hey, people this is my very first story, and I'm pretty excited! I've been wanting to write something like this for a while now, and has been my motivation. Note that this is a progressive romance; I'm not diving into the love stuff within the first few sentences... I feel that takes away from the realism. Reviews are very much appreciated! Enjoy! 3  
**(Extra Note: This is a newer, edited version of the same story, as my writing has improved.)**

DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own Marvel or any of its wonderful characters.

Bruce thought he had come to terms with his curse. He thought he had learned to accept that which he couldn't change. Yet there he stood, at square one. The day had given way to night, thick condensation clouding his vision. All that surrounded him were dead, leafless trees, which provided no shelter from the elements. It didn't matter. The sky wept much as he did internally, soaking every inch of his shivering body. His gaze never wavered from the gun in his hand. The sleek metal was comforting in a way. He could rid himself of the recurring nightmares, the pain of suppressed emotions, the trauma of lives lost, of lives destroyed… all with a single bullet. It felt… good; for once in his life, he was in complete control. The moment quickly passed as wretched realization struck him: His first attempt had gotten him nowhere; how would this be any different? "Second time's the charm," he muttered under his breath. If he could find no cure, if he was a constant threat to others, he would have to die.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, Bruce?" An all-too-familiar voice from behind startled the physicist out of his trance. _Tony…_

"How'd you find me…?" Bruce halfheartedly asked, removing the safety on the gun. He had travelled halfway across the country to a remote area, made sure to stay hidden, had no devices by which he could be tracked…

Huh.

It wasn't that much of a shock, he supposed; if Tony wanted to find someone, he would.

"Doesn't matter. Don't answer my question with a question."

"Well, Tony," Bruce chuckled, "I'm sure it's pretty obvious what I'm doing." He offered not so much as a glance in the other man's direction. Cocking the gun, he continued, "I'm trying to solve a very big problem." The gun was raised to his temple, and his finger hovered over the trigger. He was turned to face the billionaire. He could tell that Tony was genuinely concerned for him; the look in his eye said it all without him having to say a word. It puzzled him why Tony even bothered. Bruce had fractured the man's skull, broke quite a few of his ribs, and crushed his leg some 6 ½ months ago. Even now, he was still recovering.

"Do you realize just how stupid and selfish you sound right now?" Tony scoffed.

"No, I guess I don't." So what if he was being selfish? So what if he was being stupid? There was no point in going on the way he did. It was all a vicious cycle that had to end.

"…Drop the gun, Bruce." Tony demanded. This only made Bruce grip the weapon tighter. The billionaire's dark eyes peered into Bruce's, searching for the slightest glint of recognition. He found nothing of the sort. Tony knew his suicide attempt would fail; Bruce had said it himself. That wasn't what worried him. It was the simple fact that Bruce wanted to do it.

"I'm not sure I want to." Bruce mumbled.

Tony's metal-clad hand clasped around Bruce's wrist, hoping he would comply. "Bruce. Drop it."

It was clear Tony would have it no other way. Releasing a shallow breath, Bruce finally spoke. "Fine." The gun fell from his hand, his head bowed and gaze averted. "It wouldn't have worked anyway."

Tony released his grip on the doctor. "Maybe you should stop trying to solve a problem that's already solved itself." This made the doctor laugh.

"Has it?"

"Yes, it has. So promise me something. Promise me I'll never see that," Tony pointed to the gun on the ground, "in your hand again. I mean it."

Bruce raised his head, staring into the soft blue light that shone on Tony's chest. "…I'll try. That's about the only promise I can make."

"Good enough. I'm taking you back to New York." From the clouds emerged his aircraft, on autopilot. "Any opposition will be bluntly ignored."


	2. Chapter 2

The flight back was long and unpleasant. The hum of the ship was all that filled the silence inside of the billionaire's aircraft. Bruce was a damp, shivering mess, eyes steady yet unseeing on the cloudy path ahead. He wasn't there, rather, in his head. After what seemed like an eternity, the two geniuses had arrived. They were on the 92nd floor of Stark Tower, one of the more leisurely sections of the building. Filled with amenities that catered to every need, the area was a stress-free zone—according to Tony. Bruce, having changed into dry clothes, (courtesy of Tony Stark; he was surprised it was a perfect fit) stood silently as Tony prepared a fresh cup of coffee for him. He had insisted that he was content, but the billionaire had decided he wasn't. "Black or sweetened?" Tony called over his shoulder. "Lightly sweetened. Thanks." Bruce muttered.

Bruce wasn't particularly happy to be back. He expected an interrogation, to be berated and hovered over until Tony heard what he wanted to hear. And so he waited for the moment he was sure would come. Tony limped over to him, handing him his cup of coffee, and the two men took a seat in the living room. Quietly sipping at his coffee, the doctor hadn't said a single word; he didn't want to break the silence. Silence was very precious to him. It gave him a chance to contemplate, a chance to assess. He wouldn't stay in the Tower. He couldn't. The people here didn't deserve to live in constant danger. Especially Tony; he was the only person who had completely looked past the Other Guy. But that didn't make the man invincible.

"Is it bad? The coffee, I mean. You're just gawking at it."

Bruce was pulled back to the present. Offering a weak smile, he replied. "Oh… No, it's fine." He took a long sip of the steaming drink. Feeling the other man's eyes on him, he continued staring into his coffee; he hated being observed. He never knew how much the other person could figure out from a simple glance.

Noticing the doctor's change in body language, Tony spoke up once more. "I know what you're thinking, and what you're thinking is totally wrong. Just know that whenever you do want to talk, I'm here."

"Thanks, but I don't…" Bruce trailed off, releasing a helpless sigh.

"Oh, and another thing," Tony continued, "I knew you'd go running off again once given the chance, so I took the liberty of locking every exit out of the building with a password only I know. Isn't that right, Jarvis?" He looked to the ceiling with a satisfied smile.

An English-accented voice spoke up. _"That is correct, Sir."_ The man sank further into the sofa, glancing at Bruce's disdained expression. "Don't look at me like that. You know you were gonna pull your little disappearing act as soon as I fell asleep. I wasn't letting that happen again."

"Tony, you can't just lock me in here." The doctor sighed once more, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Oh, but I can. Really don't like the thought of you wanting to hurt yourself."

"And how exactly is keeping me locked inside your tower going to change anything? I don't exactly do well with _cages_."

"Well, this is one hell of a cage, if I do say so myself… which I do. And, _smart aleck_, I'll be able to keep an eye on you. Can't exactly help you if you up and leave."

Bruce carefully set his cup of coffee on the small glass table in front of him and stood. "I'm not some lost puppy Tony."

"No, but you are my friend. You can piss and moan all you want, but I'm not letting you harm yourself, physically or otherwise." Tony straightened in his seat. "So go on, throw your little fit. I'm not letting you run off again."

"Tony, you know I wouldn't do that… Look, I just can't stay. I nearly killed you."

"Nearly. What happened that day doesn't matter anymore. Do yourself a favor and stop dwelling on it." Tony could never harbor any animosity for the man. Bruce understood him better than most. He was his intellectual equal, a man of mystery and deep thought. The more time he spent with him the more he figured out; he was intriguing, to say the least. Any of those characteristics could outshine his much greener one. He would do all he could to make the man forget whatever pain he was going through… maybe even completely rid him of it. Banner just had to stay put for a while.

Jarvis spoke up once more. _"Sir, an incoming call from Director Fury."_ A large transparent monitor descended in front of the billionaire. Rolling his eyes, Tony pressed 'accept', expecting an overabundance of complaints. A very pissed looking man had appeared on the screen. "Whatever it is, make it quick." Tony grumbled. "I'm trying to have a heart-to-heart with someone over here."

"I'm really not in the mood for your bullshit right now, Stark. You've been ignoring my calls for days. I thought I had made it clear that cooperation was needed if the Avengers Initiative was going to work."

Glancing at his watch, Tony sighed. "Are you planning on getting to the point anytime soon? I'm kinda busy."

Bruce had observed Tony's and Fury's little back and forth; it was funny how quickly Tony had turned into an asshole. Not that he wasn't an asshole to Bruce. But when it came to him, Tony was never an asshole without good intention. He shook his head at the idea. Intentions hardly matter if the outcome remains the same, and Tony just _didn't get that_. Bruce was a lost cause, and he had to leave before his friend figured that out the hard way... again. Returning to the present moment, the doctor had caught the last few words spoken. As the minutes ticked by, it became more and more difficult to stay focused.

"… Fine, fine, I'll do it. But only because you so desperately need my expertise."

"Just get it done, Stark." Fury's face faded from the screen, and with a snap, the monitor rose to the ceiling.

"Jeez, what rod does he have stuck up his ass?" Tony mumbled to himself.

"You did ignore his calls."

"Don't take his side." Standing and stretching, the billionaire had realized just how exhausted he was. The week was filled with tedious work that had drained him both mentally and physically. The only good thing he got out of the week was finding Bruce. The wonders of discreet trackers… and oblivious friends. Oh, the convenience. With a limp in his step, Tony made his way to the kitchen, grabbing a can of beer from the fridge. Returning to his place on the sofa, he motioned for the doctor to join him again. With a bit of coaxing, he complied.

Bruce was not nearly as relaxed as his extroverted counterpart. He too, had glanced at his watch. It was three past two in the morning; he would be fast asleep right now… if each dream he had wasn't plagued with terrible happenings of the past. He would avoid sleep days at a time out of fear, caffeine his only assistance in staying awake. But, being human, sleep was inevitable, and his body was growing weary. He would soon have to relive those painful moments. Wringing his hands and bouncing his leg, his anxiety was less than subtle. "Hey, got somethin' on your mind?" Tony asked, downing the rest of the can. The doctor merely shook his head in dismissal. "Still ready and willing to help here. But no pressure."

Bruce really didn't like to talk about his problems. Whenever he did, the conversation was brisk and vague. As Dr. Banner, confidentiality was his only defense. As the Other Guy, he was his every defense. The contrast between his two personalities was nearly infinite. At the moment, however, there was no apparent threat. Tony's sincerity has been proven through and through… So why build walls that were not needed? He supposed it was instinct. It would be far too much work to tear the walls down now. "It isn't anything you can help me with," he finally said. Rubbing his stinging eyes, he chuckled heartily. "You really shouldn't waste your energy on me, Tony… As a matter of fact, how's Pepper?" The billionaire seemed to stiffen at the question.

"…Okay, I completely see through your little attempt at dodging the subject. If you don't want me to pester you, you could just leave the Tower. Oh, wait…"

"Struck a nerve, did I?"

Tony feigned a look of astonishment. "Well aren't you observant?" His expression faded to solemnity. "Fine, I admit she and I are having some complications right now, as does any couple. The real mystery is what's going on with you."

The doctor sighed. "…I have nightmares. That's what's bothering me right now. Happy?"

Tony hummed in acknowledgement. "Now we're getting somewhere... Elaborate."


	3. Chapter 3

Bruce and Tony had conversed for about another half hour, until the doctor could hardly keep his eyes open. Willing himself to stay awake, the doctor grabbed his cup of forgotten coffee and stood, guzzling the lukewarm beverage.

Tony looked up at the doctor. Exhaustion grew more and more apparent on his face. "You need to get some rest. We both do."

"Weren't you listening?" Bruce mumbled. "I can't sleep."

"Then let me at least show you to your room."

"No."

"Are you gonna be this stubborn the whole time? 'Cause I don't mind dragging you there."

"Why do you even still care? Take a hint from everyone else and stay away from me."

Unmoved by the doctor's words, Tony scoffed. "I'm not much of a conformist. Believe it or not, I'm actually quite fond of you, Banner, and I want to help you." The doctor began pacing back and forth. "What's there to be fond of?" He countered, a bitter smile darkening his features. "No, really. I don't get it." Tony caught the doctor's gaze. "Plenty. You'd be surprised." The two had known each other for nearly four years. The only thing he couldn't stand about Bruce was his self-loathing.

Bruce gave up; nothing he said dissuaded Tony, and he didn't have the energy to put up much of a fight. Dizziness had gripped the sleep-deprived doctor, forcing him to lean against a nearby wall. Tony's voice reached him, garbled and indistinct. "'M fine, 'm alright…" He insisted in a thick slur. Closing his eyes, he became deadweight, and fell to the floor.

…

Tony had half-dragged, half-carried the doctor to his room. Not fifteen minutes later, and already had Bruce begun to twist and turn restlessly. Eyebrows furrowed, Bruce muttered something incoherent. Tony placed a hand on Bruce's shoulder, and he recoiled. "Bruce?" The billionaire whispered. Shaking the doctor, he once again called his name. "Bruce, it's alri—" The doctor had awoken, and his hands immediately wrapped around Tony's throat. His eyes glowed a bright green, but the color quickly faded as recognition struck him. Releasing his grip, Bruce stared apologetically into the other man's eyes. "…I'm sorry."

"It's alright. Shouldn't have scared you like that."

"Stop doing that, Tony. You know you aren't at fault."

"Neither are you."

Looking around, Bruce grew confused. "How did I…?"

"I brought you here." Straightening his stance, Tony headed for the door. "Jarvis, let me know if there're any more irregularities in Bruce's sleep patterns." _"Of course, Sir."_

"See you in the morning." Tony shut the door behind him, leaving Bruce to ponder. In all, truest honesty, he loved Tony's company; he even began to think he needed it. Tony was the only one who unwaveringly gave a damn about his wellbeing. He was also the only one he allowed into his personal plights, rare as those occasions were. Yet at the same time, he couldn't bear the thought of hurting the man again. He had caused enough pain, he had seen enough pain. He wasn't going to inflict it upon someone he cared about. Not again. Never again. With these final thoughts racing through his head, it wasn't long before the doctor was once again taken by sleep.

…

"You found him?" Pepper asked.

"Yeah. What's with that tone?"

"I'm just worried is all."

Tony stared ahead, pausing for a moment. "Well, you shouldn't be. I'm gonna be fine."

"You don't know that, Tony. You thought you were 'gonna be fine' 6 months ago."

"…When will you be back?"

"I'd say about 12 hours…" Distant chattering was heard on her end. "I have to go. This conversation isn't over." But to him it was. No amount of protest could make Tony up and drop Bruce. He and Pepper were very important to him.


	4. Chapter 4

The doctor had been awoken by the warm kiss of sunlight. Combing his fingers through his unruly hair, he sat up and stretched. He was surprised; it had been a while since he had a fairly decent rest. Taking a look around his room, he lifted a brow, impressed. The room was perfectly furnished. There wasn't too much, and there wasn't too little. Wonderfully subtle, exactly how he liked it. A shame he couldn't stay.

Another door off to the side led to a large bathroom. The floor was of expensive tile, the sink counter smooth with marble. The tub could easily be mistaken for a Jacuzzi… he swore three people could fit comfortably in there—_"Good afternoon, Doctor Banner."_ Startled, Bruce nearly jumped out of bed. He would never get used to Jarvis. "Afternoon…?"

_"__Yes. Mr. Stark wished for me to inform you of his whereabouts as soon as you woke. You can find him on the 91st floor. He is working."_ Thanking the AI, Bruce headed for the bathroom and freshened up.

After a hot shower, the doctor felt better. The emptiness he felt before waned ever so slightly. He both loved it and hated it. He loved it because if only for a fleeting moment, he didn't feel alone. He hated it because in loving it, he may grow attached; his walls would crumble. What then? Having changed into gray slacks, a buttoned teal shirt, and a pair of black oxfords, the doctor finally headed downstairs.

As soon as the elevator doors opened, Bruce was greeted by pure, unadulterated noise. Rock blared from the overhead speakers, the air practically trembling with music. Turning, the engineer lifted his face shield visor, and smiled. Noticing the doctor's discomfort, he turned the music off. "Hey. You rest well?" The doctor nodded slowly, carefully. It was an odd concept. Lowering his visor, Tony continued to work. Curious, Bruce stood beside the engineer. "What exactly are you working on?" Gesturing with a gloved hand, Tony explained. "Oh, just making a few modifications to my suit. I'm hoping to make space travel possible in the thing, but it's turning out to be a real pain in the ass. There're a shit ton of factors to consider, facets to augment, yada, yada…" Bruce removed his glasses and set them on the table in front of him. He couldn't help the smile tugging at his lips. "And you… need my help...?"

"Just need a fellow genius's input." Tony lied. He knew exactly what he was doing; he was merely being selfish. What he had interest in, he would remain attached to, much like Pepper, much like his work, much like Bruce. Grabbing a small bag, he offered it to Bruce. "Gummy worm?" "I haven't even had breakfast." "Of course you haven't, it's noon." Tony mocked.

Bruce smiled a sincere smile. If only for a moment, he had forgotten that all this was temporary. Reaching into the bag, he pulled out 5 of the gelatin candies. One by one, they went into his mouth, and once they were gone, he went for more. Before he knew it, the bag was empty. "Sorry," the doctor mumbled, "I forgot about my sweet tooth…"

Tony raised an inquisitive brow. "Curiouser and curiouser… You're more impulsive than you lead on. I gotta bring more sweets around you."

"…Let's just get to work."

"It can wait. I'll go make you some brunch."

"You don't have to-"

"But I do. Or rather, I _want_ to. Besides, Pepper will be home any minute. I might as well whip somethin' up for the both of you."

Removing his gloves and visor, Tony headed downstairs. The doctor decided to take a look around. As expected, it was perfect. A single large window allowed natural light in, also giving a nice view of the city. The chrome themed lab catered to every scientific need. A screen just beside him showed the image of the prototype suit and all its basic functions. Observing the engineer's work, he began to wonder if Tony was building the suit out of his own volition. He thought back to last night's call from the Director. Perhaps this was what Fury had requested of Tony.

The doctor took a seat in a nearby swivel chair and kept his eyes to the ceiling, staring at nothing in particular. The fleeting moment of happiness had passed, and he had come to his senses. He hated it… and he loved it.

…

25 minutes later…

_ "__Sir, Miss Potts is entering the Tower."_

"Perfect! Tell her where I am, will you?"

"Of course."

A few minutes later, Pepper had arrived, and was greeted with a kiss. Wrapping an arm around her waist, Tony walked her to the kitchen counter. "Hey. How was the flight back?" He headed to the stove.

"Oh, it was great! Something smells good."

…

Brunch was, to say the least, uncomfortable. Tony had insisted that his two favorite people eat together. Neither Pepper nor Bruce spoke a word to each other, except for the usual formalities. Bruce knew Pepper was afraid, and Pepper knew Bruce felt guilty, but neither could address the obvious. Their body language, however, said it all. Tony couldn't stand uncomfortable silences.

"So… are we just gonna stay silent the whole time?"

Stealing a few nervous glances at Pepper, the doctor decided his company wasn't needed. He hurriedly finished his food and headed to the sink. "The food was great," he said, cleaning his dishes, "but I think I'll stay in the lab." He was gone before Tony could object. So much for bonding.

"That went well."

Pepper relaxed in her seat. "I'm sorry, Tony. I don't doubt Dr. Banner is a good man. It's what he turns into that bothers me."

"If you recall, I was the one that provoked him that day." Tony defended.

"Whatever you did or said didn't deserve to get you nearly killed."

"It's funny… you two sound alike."

"Then why don't you take our word for it and leave him be?"

"Well, for starters, I found the man trying to kill himself. Again." Pepper said nothing. Tony continued. "Yeah. Which is why I really hoped the two of you could get along for a while… You know, until he's… better. Please trust me when I say nothing will happen." Placing a reassuring kiss on the woman's forehead, he took a seat. "On a happier note, how did the meeting go?"

…

Fear.

It was there in Pepper's eyes, glaringly clear. Bruce hated it. It made existence all the more difficult. There was a very small handful of people he could trust, thanks to fear… But he couldn't blame those who were afraid. The man was a living, ticking time bomb; suppressed emotions always bubbled and raged below the surface. He could only forget his anger in the company of those he cared for. Yet those he cared for always ended up hurt. Whatever helped him, he couldn't have. Agitated, he paced back and forth, tugging at his curls. Why the hell was he even dwelling on this? Despite his efforts, his mind returned time and time again to these dark musings, like they just didn't want to let him go.

_ "__Are you alright, Doctor Banner?"_ The AI chimed in. _"It seems you are experiencing symptoms of anxiety."_

"I suppose Tony told you to monitor me." Bruce sighed. "I'm fine."

_"__Very good. Please don't hesitate to ask me for anything."_

"Thanks." After calming himself, the doctor had retrieved his glasses and snuck another look at Tony's prototype. The design, as always was flawless. He began to wonder why Tony even needed him for this.

"Great, isn't it?" Bruce jumped at Tony's voice; he hadn't even heard him come in. "I don't know why I hadn't started it sooner." Draping an arm over the doctor's shoulder, he too, marveled at his work. "Shall we begin?"

"I really don't think I'd be of much help. This is perfect as it is."

"Well… yeah. I know. But someone to talk to would be nice. And besides," stepping away, Tony grabbed something from a nearby cabinet, "free gummy worms."

**AN: **Hands up if you get the gummy worms reference ;) Don't be afraid to review 3


	5. Chapter 5

Two weeks had passed. Two weeks with a certain self-destructive guest. Tony had the Tower to himself, and with that, a chance to reflect. The last few days had been very… constructive. Reluctantly, the man had put business before pleasure, attending monotonous meetings, interviews, and handling a little mishap with a wannabe villain. In summation, he had earned his moment of leisure.

The background noise of Aerosmith had soothed him; dead silence wasn't an option. Especially not now. Pouring a shot glass of vodka, his mind began to wander. Were Bruce and Pepper enjoying their friendly dinner together? Was Dum-E tinkering with something that he shouldn't? When was the Chinese food going to get there? And also… were Bruce and Pepper enjoying their friendly dinner together? He was particularly curious about that. His thoughts never wandered far from the two. Tension between the woman and doctor had waned, but not enough to satisfy him. He wanted them to enjoy each other's company, not just tolerate it. He wanted both their company at the same time. Was that selfish? Maybe just a bit.

One shot of vodka had become two, and two had become three. It was all to drown the sudden guilt that had only grown as the days went on. But even the most intoxicating drink couldn't efface his internal worries. He gave up after his fifth shot. Tony almost wished for the distraction of work; there were some things he wasn't quite ready to admit, not even in the privacy of his own mind.

…

Bruce wasn't sure how Tony talked him into having dinner with Pepper. Perhaps it was his charm. Nonetheless, it was going fairly well. Bruce had ordered the seafood platter with water, and Pepper shrimp scampi with white wine. "How's the pasta?" He wasn't much of a conversationalist, but he tried. "It's pretty good," Pepper offered, "it would be better if…" "If…?" The doctor pressed. Sipping at her wine, Pepper sighed and smiled weakly. "I never thought I'd be confiding in you, Doctor." Bruce merely tilted his head, awaiting her explanation. "It's just that… I _miss_ Tony. He's been off lately, like he was three years ago. Physically he's there, but… that's pretty much it most of the time. He's disconnected, and I don't know why. You know him, be honest: am I the only one who's seeing this?" A look of desperation filled her eyes; it was obvious she needed validation, something Bruce couldn't provide. Not without lying. Tony seemed lively and bold as usual, perhaps even more so. He merely frowned, though that was hardly any consolation. "Have you spoken to him about it?" The woman shook her head. "I'm sure you already know Tony is a very busy man. It can be… pretty hard to get his undivided attention." Bruce didn't quite know how to respond; he felt dissonance with every word she spoke. And he wasn't exactly the kind of man to get into people's personal business.

During the car ride back, Bruce wondered many things. He stared blankly out of the window as he came to a conclusion of sorts. His past was finally becoming his past. And he loved it. That one part of him still wanted to think he hated it, but was failing miserably with each passing moment. It had been two weeks. His perspective had changed considerably in this short period of time. The contempt he held for himself ebbed in Tony's presence. The dark thoughts he'd grappled with daily had left him in those moments. He was… happy in those moments. It took a few seconds for him to realize they had arrived. The chauffeur opened the doors and bid the two a goodnight.

…

Tony stared impatiently at his watch. It was six past eleven. The Chinese food had arrived, and was long gone. A bit of tinkering was done here and there on a few minor projects. A refreshing, warm shower had done its part to keep him awake, while the company of music filled the air around him. What was missing? He pretended not to know. Flipping through channels on the television, the billionaire anxiously waited. _"Sir,"_ Jarvis called, _"Miss Potts and Doctor Banner have returned from dinner. They are on their way up." _He would have been glad, that is, if he wasn't nervous instead. Funny. He was never the jittery type. The elevator doors opened.

Pepper hurried to his side, planting a gentle kiss on his cheek. "Hey. You were right, dinner was great." Tony returned the gesture, and smiled. "See? I knew it would be." After a few moments of whispering clever and insinuative comments in each other's ears, Pepper had decided to head upstairs and change for bed.

…

Bruce kept his gaze averted the entire time. Just where did Pepper see a 'disconnection'? The two seemed perfectly fine together.

"Hey." Tony interrupted. "You've been starin' at the ground for the longest. Something bothering you?"

"No…" The doctor mumbled. That… wasn't very convincing. He awkwardly stuffed his hands in his pockets, and continued. "Well, yes, actually. I know you said that there were some issues between you and Pepper. She even mentioned it to me… said you seem distant." This earned him a peculiar stare from Tony.

"Distant? Is that how I come off?"

"Well, according to her. I don't mean to pry, but… might there be something bothering you?"

The billionaire disregarded the question. "Distant…"

"…Look, she and I are on good terms now. I think it would be in her best interest if you… spent a little more time with her." There was a brief moment of eye contact between the two. There was something there in the billionaire's eyes… something unintelligible. Before Bruce could figure it out, Tony broke the connection and turned his back to face him. He knew he couldn't help much. Perhaps it would be good to have someone to listen to, the same courtesy he was provided. "Tony," he tried again, bolder this time, "tell me… is there something wrong?" He felt it wasn't enough, not after all Tony had done for him. But what else could he do? With an incredulous smile, Tony simply answered: "No." He slipped past the doctor, and headed for the elevator.

…

Tony cussed under his breath. Maybe he _was _being distant. Of course he wouldn't notice. He was often too lost in the moment, too engulfed in _himself_ and _his_ feelings to notice. And all at Pepper's expense. He really was an asshole.

Even he noticed his mood improve around Bruce. He knew he had helped the doctor immensely, and he enjoyed the fact that he was the only one who could get the doctor to open up, to smile. He was a puzzle he was learning to fix. He stared straight ahead, grimacing.

The elevator doors opened, and he stepped out. He had arrived on the 102nd floor. Leaning against a nearby wall, he sighed. Guilt had found him again, and he found himself suffocating under its heavy weight. And that made him think.

Just a few moments prior, a part of him he tried to forget made an unexpected appearance.

This was something completely new for Tony. An absolute first. Never had he ever felt something for another man. It was something he had no control over, and he hated it. And it seems like it had been this way for a long time, if not always… that these feelings have merely been rekindled. It wasn't much, just a nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach. But it was there. It was real. It was growing.

And it was terrifying.

Tomorrow would be different. It would have to be.

AN: What'll happen? We'll see together.


	6. Chapter 6

Brown, tired eyes opened to the faint light of early morning. The doctor groaned exasperatedly. He had a… difficult night. The bed was suddenly so comfortable; he didn't want to move a muscle. Staring blankly ahead at a bare wall, he sighed. It took a few minutes to will himself to sit upright. His eyes wandered around the room, and he soon panicked. The bed's headboard had been cracked, the dresser beside the bed was crushed, and his sheets were shredded. With his memory still fuzzy, he couldn't quite recall what had happened. He hoped to God he hadn't hurt anyone. Getting out of bed, he examined the room completely. Except for a large crack in the wall, nothing else had been destroyed; he had apparently calmed down before any real damage could be done. Seeing as he wouldn't be getting anymore sleep, he went to the bathroom and completed his morning ritual. After a few minutes of searching for his glasses, he found them on the floor, snapped in two. Good thing he had a spare pair. A quiet knock from behind caught his attention.

Leaning against the doorframe was Tony, a mug of coffee in one hand, and a rolled magazine in the other. His wild mess of black hair stuck out in all directions; either he slept well or tossed and turned all night. The glow of his arc reactor was only amplified in the limited light, and his entire face was bathed in a blue hue. Bruce couldn't help but wonder how long he was there.

Sipping the steaming drink, Tony peeked over the brim of the mug, observing the doctor. Lowering the mug, he finally spoke. "Morning."

"…Morning." Bruce mumbled, catching the other's dark eyes. With his damaged glasses in hand, he took the opportunity to break eye contact, setting the spectacles on his dresser.

Tony took a gander at the destroyed objects, and shrugged his shoulders. "This stuff can easily be replaced." "I wasn't worried about the 'stuff'," Bruce sighed. He walked over to his dresser and stared wearily at his reflection in the mirror. Tony took another sip of his coffee, carefully watching the doctor. "I just got… scared is all. Thought I hurt someone again." "With me around? Please. I already told you to stop worrying." Stepping away from the mirror, Bruce smiled. It was very subtle, but still there. "I have been worrying less, you know; a lot of weight's been taken off my shoulders. But still… it—"

"Hey," Tony interrupted, "the first part was good enough. Don't ruin the moment." Suddenly, the billionaire shifted his weight and grimaced. Gripping the wall for support, he slowly turned, cussing under his breath. Bruce was immediately by his side, taking the cup and magazine. Silently, he helped Tony to the lounge room down the hall. He set the beverage and magazine on the coffee table and spoke, bitterness in his tone. "You're in more pain than you've led on." Taking a seat, the billionaire buried his face in one hand. "Ugh. Bruce, you know it's too early for this." "You've been hiding it." The following silence had answered his question.

"Fine," Tony caved. "I do have… occasional pain." Tony reached into his pocket, pulling out a small baggie with two pills inside. Reaching for his cup, he swallowed them, back to back. "Trust me, if I couldn't take it, I'd be curled up in bed." This didn't seem to placate the doctor; he was beginning to close himself off again. "This is exactly why I kept quiet," Tony sighed. "What you're doing right now. Do me a solid and knock it off." After a few moments of apparent consideration, the doctor's eyes softened. They were a mixture of emotions and unspoken words. If ever there was a time the billionaire was stumped, it would be now. Tony was shameless, lived life without regret, whereas every second of the doctor's life was filled with remorse. It had to be something bigger; the Other Guy couldn't be the root of all his problems. Pain ran deep… there was always something just below the surface... Something untold but known. Something unseen but felt. "…Why do you hate yourself?"

Bruce stiffened even more, nervously lacing his fingers together. "Seriously, Bruce," Tony pressed, "I want a straight answer from you."

The doctor scoffed. "That's a silly question." Still, he answered, very quietly. "I became like my father." A rancorous smile tugged at his lips as he took a seat left of Tony. He leaned his head back, staring at the ceiling.

"…Look, enough about me." His voice was low with aggravation. "I'm tired of talking about me."

But Tony wasn't. He knew he could fix Bruce, and he would. He was, after all, an engineer. Still, he had dropped the subject. "Fair enough." The two sat quietly, and for once, Tony was okay with that. There was no need or desire to speak. He only enjoyed the guilty pleasure of Bruce's company. Bruce's breaths grew progressively slower, more relaxed. Stealing a glance in his direction, it was then Tony realized the doctor's eyes were closed. Was he asleep? "Bruce?"

"I'm just thinking," he smoothly replied.

What the hell was he thinking so deeply about? Tony forced the curiosity down, though his eyes never left the pondering doctor.

"Stop that."

"Stop what?" The billionaire asked, befuddled.

"You're staring at me. You know I don't like it."

Tony obliged, turning his attention to his magazine. "Afraid I might figure out what you're thinking?" He teased.

"Yes."

A bit caught off guard, Tony stared blankly at the pages. "Can't help it. I just happen to read people very well."

"Yes," Bruce repeated, "and I don't like it." The doctor wet his lips and sighed. Opening his eyes, he glanced out a small window to the left of him, his face bathed in a brilliant gold. One couldn't deny the morning's radiant beauty. He hadn't been paying much attention to things like this. Nature and seclusion. For a long time, those two things had equaled peace for him. But it was changing, ever so slowly. It was terrible. It was wonderful. It was terribly wonderful. He wanted to preserve this fleeting feeling, yet he wanted to bury it. Forget it. He was the epitome of contradiction. Would that ever change? This safe haven, this sanctuary called Tony Stark was something he always wanted, deep down. But he knew this new sense of security would eventually break… So why was he still here? Why was he still playing this game?

"Why do you go out of your own way for me?" He asked.

"Why does anyone?" Tony retorted, casually flipping through the magazine. A few seconds later, he set the magazine down and turned to face the doctor. "You're asking a question that's already been answered. Somethin' you want to tell me, Banner?" He leaned forward, eyes expectant and unwavering. Bruce hated that… Tony was the only person who could figure him out so easily. He could destroy what little boundaries the doctor had set… all with a simple look, or a few words. How does he do it? Perhaps that'd been his superpower all along. Whatever it was, it was working; it's been working since he met the genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist. "I've realized something," the doctor began. "I've realized that I'm sick of living the way I do. But I don't know how to live any other way; I'm not sure I can live any other way. This… thing has been part of my life for a long time now." The sunlight had revealed the brilliant color of his eyes as his attention once again turned to the window. Gathering his words, he drew in a deep breath, and continued. "I'm… better around you. You're the only person in a long time who's accepted me completely from day one. And I'm forever grateful for that. Problem is the past keeps me from moving forward. Or rather, I can't let go of the past. Either way, I'm tired of it." A force of habit, his hand wandered to his head, and his fingers combed through his slightly peppered hair. His gaze fell to the billionaire, who squinted at him through inquisitive and playful eyes. The smile on his face had said enough. "I take it then, that you're officially asking for my help?" The doctor cracked a smile as well, placing a hand on the billionaire's shoulder.

"Yeah, Tony. I guess I am."


	7. Chapter 7

Another week and a half had passed, and any evidence of Bruce's unconscious 'fit' was long gone. It took less than an hour to repair the wall, and furniture was never a problem. The days that followed were smoother, easier. Tony felt at ease, no longer torn. He was aware of how he felt. He just didn't give it any power. And so, things got better between him and Pepper. Things _felt_ better. They ate out, they spoke, they smiled. He and Bruce even had a little routine. The two would meet up in the lab, talk science, and laugh a little. The doctor was even making an effort to open up a bit more. Not as much as Tony would like, but it was definitely a start. It was late afternoon, and the two were now partaking in their own individual studies, glancing at each other every so often.

"So," Tony began, looking over his shoulder, "I planned a little get-together with the team and was wondering if—"

"No, I don't think so," Bruce interrupted, gently swirling a flask of bluish solvent. "I'm busy."

"Oh? Enlighten me, doctor. With what exactly are you too busy that can't wait a few hours?"

Irritated, the doctor turned around to find Tony silently reading him. "…I'm… not exactly a socialite, Tony. You know that." Dark, analytical eyes met their brown, apprehensive counterparts. Self-assuredness clashed with self-doubt, wholehearted with halfhearted. The engineer took two steps forward, his arms folded firmly over his chest. Giving the hardest of looks, he spoke. "I believe you're trying to bullshit me. It isn't working, though… Thought you should know that." The doctor removed his glasses, a soft smile masking his agitation. "Look. I don't want to go. It's that simple." Tony repeated the doctor's last few words. "It's that simple…" His jaw tightened, but he pressed no further. "Alright." The engineer returned to his work, as did Bruce. The doctor was excessively stubborn, so much so that Tony was often tempted to strangle the truth out of him. How'd the saying go? Old habits die hard? Not like knowing that helped much. He stared blankly at his tools, wondering what was going on in the doctor's head.

Bruce carefully added the solute (his blood), a small exothermic reaction following. Bubbles rose far past the mouth of the flask, overflowing and running down the sides. A quiet "damn it" escaped the doctor's lips as he searched frantically for something to clean it with. Amused, Tony said nothing, merely holding out a rag for Bruce to notice. "Tony, help me out here. Is there a…? Oh. Thanks." Tony smiled. "Care to take a break from… whatever it is you're trying to do?" Bruce said nothing, staring straight ahead as he washed and dried his hands. Still silent, he leaned against the counter, leg crossed over the other, hands resting on the edge.

Intrigued, Tony stared on at the doctor. "Brooding again, Bruce?" The doctor glanced at him, a playful smile smoothing his features, though he remained silent.

Reaching for a small bag of sour gelatin candy, he popped one of them in his mouth. "I think I'll have that break now."

Tony arched a brow, head slightly cocked to the side. He maintained an air of aloofness, not giving too much away. He liked to keep up a few walls of his own. "Oh? Good."

Bruce sauntered over to Tony's side of the workspace, glancing over his work. Picking up a small, steel piece yet to be assembled, he stared closely at it. "When is this little reunion?" He inquired, eyes still set on the counter in front of him.

Tony glanced at his watch, expression neutral. "Oh, I'd say in about… 3 hours."

The doctor stifled a small laugh, setting the metal object down. "…Hm. Typical Tony Stark." His voice lowered cautiously, his brown eyes briefly meeting the other's. "Why such short notice?"

The engineer smirked. "I'm spontaneous, Bruce. It's what I do. Besides, since when does it take anyone three hours to get ready?"

The doctor pinched the bridge of his nose, lips pursed. He had an answer to everything.

Tony wasn't stupid. Bruce wanted to go. All he needed was a push; subtle, but enough to change the doctor's mind. It wouldn't be forced. There was always next time. He stood across the counter from Bruce, soaking the moment in. Unaware, the doctor merely stared downward, eyes projecting a dichotomy of conscience.

Tony quietly cogitated. Every conflicting thought that ailed the billionaire was meant to lay untouched and locked away. They'd been ignored, deprived of any attention or sustenance for them to grow and manifest into words or actions. Soon, they would just stop altogether. Soon, they would die off. But in this particular moment, they tugged relentlessly against their shackles.

"You alright, Tony?"

"Fine."

"I'll… take your word for it."

"Smart."

Silence followed. The air grew heavy with unspoken words and an undeniable tension. Neither were comfortable and neither attempted to speak first. It was déjà vu for the doctor. However, this time, the engineer's expression was blank. Tony's defenses were raised for whatever reason, and once they were, they were impenetrable. His eyes were unreadable; where subtle fear once was, stoicism had taken its place. Bruce stepped away, fingers laced together.

It was frustrating. He, for once, wanted to know what the other was thinking. Tony could be such a hypocrite at times… He had created boundaries of his own, letting no one in except perhaps Pepper. Maybe that was enough.

…Or maybe Bruce was overthinking all of this. But despite his attempts at self-reassurance, something told him Tony was indeed troubled. Something told him he had been so for some time now. He'd hidden it well, and Bruce had done his best not to pry. But this was ongoing. The doctor removed his glasses from his pocket, placing them snuggly against the bridge of his nose.

Tony stared into space, subtleties of anger written on his face. He was bathed in the light of the early evening, said light changing in intensity as clouds drifted past. Abstract shapes of golden lumination danced across the tiled floor as the sun slowly sank below the horizon.

Bruce silently implored the other to speak, and still, quiet reigned. Just as Bruce opened his mouth, he was interrupted.

"Don't say anything. I know you're concerned, and I know you think this is serious. But it's not." The doctor raised a brow in disbelief. Tony rolled his dark eyes, brows furrowed. "I'm fine. Don't believe me? That's on you."

Bruce leaned slightly forward, not intending on letting up. "Yeah, I guess it is. But something clearly is wrong, and I don't even know what 'this' is."

"…Okay, Bruce, get out."

"I'm sorry?"

"Your ears are fine, don't pretend they aren't. Please exit the lab, and do so with urgency."

"May I ask why?"

"Good question. No you may not."

Head slightly tilted in confusion, the doctor acquiesced and headed for the door. It was Tony's lab, after all. He took a final glance at the engineer, eyes clearly conveying confusion. The door shut tightly behind him, and as soon as it did, the muffled sound of music reached his ears.

He stood outside the lab, leaning against the wall, which vibrated ever so slightly.

The man was unpredictable.

…

30 minutes later…

There was no denying it anymore. He was falling for his introverted counterpart. Yes… falling. Tony had mustered up enough courage to acknowledge it for what it was. He'd hidden it exceptionally well, even from himself. But in the end, his efforts to suppress these… feelings had been for naught. When he pushed, they pushed back… and with vigor. They'd only gotten stronger from their time in limbo.

He admitted, kicking the doctor out was a bit out of character, but it had to be done. He needed to be alone. Just him, his thoughts, and his music.

As usual, the shorter man was unaware of what he was doing. It was unspeakable torture. Each word spoken, each small quirk… it would draw the billionaire further in. And for that, he was somewhat pissed at Bruce. Irrational, yes, but the blame had to be placed somewhere; the doctor's ignorance wouldn't get in the way of that. It was a given that Bruce would eventually discover some of the billionaire's flaws. He already has. He wasn't perfect. As far from it as one could be, despite appearances. He was tearing at the seams, ever so slowly, and soon he would slip up altogether. He wasn't sure he wanted to find out when that would be. But the more he stuck by Bruce's side, the more this unwanted attraction would emerge. He was bringing this upon himself. If closeness was the problem, distance had to be the solution.

Tony glanced to his left.

In nearly every room, there was a mini bar. That was the beautiful thing about this tower. Grabbing a bottle of brandy from the mini-fridge, he sat in a nearby swivel chair. He poured some into a fair-sized glass and drank. The alcohol went down smooth, its mild and residual burn taming him. It wasn't the answer, he knew that, but he took comfort in knowing that it could put his mind at ease, if only for a little while.

He inhaled deeply, staring into the dark liquid in his glass.

Temporary amnesia.

…

Bruce sipped at his chamomile concoction, staring into space. He was alone, accompanied only by silence. Anxiety had reared its fear-mongering head once again, but he found it easier to cope with. Alone didn't feel so… alone. Still, these thoughts came almost periodically, and he'd done a good job keeping it to himself. Really, it was all about information. Information he wasn't quite comfortable to share, at least not yet. He wanted to enjoy this fresh new mentality. Still, flashes of his cynical self ran across his mind, and his grip tightened considerably around his mug. A pang of fear stabbed at his chest, and he didn't flinch. It only wanted attention. Attention he wouldn't give.

It clung to him, and he shook it off. He glanced at his watch. 7:48. Tony would be leaving soon. He was tempted to join him…

The doctor stood, his mug now empty. He washed it, found a loose jacket and headed for outside, per the new, freer tower protocol.

The air was crisp with an early autumn breeze and the sky clear, dotted with distant heavenly bodies. Beautiful. He meandered around the block, glancing absently at the conglomerate of stores and shops that lined the streets. Even at this time, the city was still bustling with people, all with somewhere to go, somewhere to be. A never-ending hustle, living a life of distraction and disconnect. It wasn't something he could appreciate. Then again, at least these people knew where they were going, where they were headed. He had little, if any, sense of direction in his life. He wanted to change. He told Tony this. He told himself this.

And still, he held himself back.

He found himself standing in front of a psychic reading center. Amused, he smiled. He hardly believed in this kind of thing, but perhaps he would humor 'the fates' just this once. He pushed the door open, a gentle chime alerting his entrance. The lighting was soft and not overbearing, a great contrast from the city lights. The air smelled of freshly burned incense and sage. Pleasing to the senses and the mind.

"Hello, dear." Bruce nearly jumped out of his skin. In front of him stood a short, older woman. She wore loose-fitting attire, with patterns that seemed to dance as she moved. Each arm was adorned with bracelets of various crystals and wood. Her graying and coarse hair was pulled neatly into a bun, revealing a face of subtle wrinkles. The woman smiled, the expression easily reaching her intense smoky gray eyes.

He returned the gesture, head bowed ever so slightly. "Oh, sorry. I was just taking this in for a moment."

"No need to apologize, darling. I've been expecting a visitor for some time now. Was growing a bit impatient, actually." She chuckled. "My name is Isis, and you are…" she took his hand in hers, "David."

The doctor nearly cringed at the name. "…I prefer to be called Bruce." His discomfort was less than concealed. "Oh, I see…" Isis nodded with understanding eyes. "Bruce it is."

She led him to small room, lit only by soft candlelight. A few feet into the room was a table, only about a foot high. Draped over it was satin cloth, which spilled gracefully into the dark plush carpet. A small candle in the center illuminated the area. Isis gestured for him to sit. "Please, make yourself comfortable. A relaxed mind leads to a clearer, more concise reading." And so the doctor obliged. The subtle scent of lavender reached his nose, calming him further. He adored lavender. It was one of his favorite scents. Isis joined him, a small smile lightening her features. Once more, she took his hands in hers. "Alright, Bruce, shall we begin?" The doctor nodded.

"Y'know, most people have it confused. All people are 'psychic' in one way, shape, or form. Those so-called 'psychics' out there are merely attuned to their innate abilities. But I don't have to be 'attuned' to know that you are in pain." Bruce said nothing. "And let me guess, darling. You don't like to talk about your pain." "No, I guess not," the doctor sighed. Eyes closed, the woman took a deep and slow breath. "That won't do, Bruce. I sense confusion in your psyche as well." She ran her fingers across his palm. "You desire so many answers, yet you do not fight for them. Just as you so adamantly fight yourself, you must apply that same passion into getting what you so desire."

Isis opened her eyes once more. "Ah… I sense someone else. This person is very special to you. This person keeps you grounded."

"You could say that."

"Yes, I could, couldn't I? But do you believe that for yourself?"

"…Yes."

"Well then, I say you stick with this person. This person truly loves you, and will only help to elevate you." At that, Bruce stiffened, but he thought nothing more of it.

Isis smiled knowingly, saying nothing more on the subject. "Hmm… Your Life Line"—she pointed to the line that traces his inner palm—"indicates something wonderful happening in the near future. What exactly, I cannot say, as 'wonderful' could mean many things. This is to be determined for yourself." She lifted her gaze, peeking at her client. He seemed more tense than when he first sat down. A slight grimace darkened her features. "You have homework, Bruce. You need to be persistent. You need to be more open. You need to _relax_. The rest will follow." The doctor nodded, not quite sure what to believe. He was still a skeptic, though he had to admit what she said hit pretty close to home. Perhaps the 'better attuned' were not as fraudulent as people made them out to be.

"Isis," he began, chuckling sheepishly. He felt absolutely ridiculous. "I uh, I have a question."

"Go on ahead, darling. We still have 2 minutes."

"I have a feeling this… person of mine has issues of his own. Will he ever…?"

"Confide in you? If Tony could, darling, Tony would. But he feels he can't… or shouldn't."

"How did—"

The woman smiled. "How do you think? I knew this was eventually going to lead up to Mr. Tony Stark. Charming man, he is."

The doctor ignored the woman's drivel, concern overpowering the calm atmosphere. "Is it dire? His situation, I mean."

"Oh, it certainly is dire for him." A hint of a smirk tugged at the woman's lips. She glanced upward at a clock on the wall. "It looks like this session is over, Bruce. And don't worry about paying; the first is always free." The doctor's mouth was ajar, filled with unasked questions. The older woman handed him a card. "If you ever want to speak again, set up an appointment. Save those questions until then, hm?" Her gray eyes searched his for any promise of his return. To her delight, it seemed likely. "Perhaps next time, you'll be open and willing enough for me to help heal your past wounds. It would do you a lot of good."

The doctor tucked the card in his pocket and pulled his jacket on, mulling over what was said. "Thank you, Isis, for your time. Maybe there _will_ be a next time." He certainly hoped so. The answers Tony refused to give could be found here. They weren't definite, but at least he was getting somewhere. Isis led him to the exit, waving him goodbye. When he was far enough away, she chuckled,

"Ah, jeez. He doesn't have a clue."

AN: Poor Bruce. So many unanswered questions.. He wants to know.

Poor Tony. Too many questions answered.. He wants to forget.

Don't forget to review~~


	8. Chapter 8

"You fiend."

"Why, thank you."

"Pray tell, how is it that you manage to trump my every move?"

"I dunno, guess it's all in the wrist."

"Strange… I thought this game to be one of skill."

"…I thought by now you would've learned not to take what I say so seriously." Thor's naivety knew no bounds.

Thor and Tony were having a game of holographic chess, courtesy of Tony. The images hovered above a thin and portable projector, and for the demigod, it was… interesting. Undoubtedly, it took some getting used to.

"Check." Tony pointed to his bishop and smirked, amused at his friend's irritation.

"I truly believe this game is rigged for failure."

"Yeah. Your failure."

The blonde demigod stood. "I will partake in this no longer. What say you and I have a sparring match? Let us then see who the better man is." It really didn't take much, did it? The billionaire stood as well, hands raised in defense. "Hey, you have your brawn, I have my brains _and_ brawn. No big deal."

Everyone was gathered in a reserved lounge, dressed fairly casually. Natasha was conversing with Steve in the corner, the two completely engaged. Seems their relationship was picking up. Clint sipped casually at his glass of red wine, expression unreadable. He hadn't realized his firm grip on the upholstery beneath him, or that his glances at the soldier and spy grew progressively more frequent.

"Your snarky remarks never cease to irritate me, Tony Stark."

Tony shrugged. "What can I say? I like to do a thorough job. But enough about me and my amazing work ethic," he stood as well, retrieving his glass of rum on the coffee table, "how're things in Asgard?" The demigod spoke briefly of the unfortunate events that took place there some time ago.

The Asgardian's blue eyes softened. "The loss of my brother and mother still weighs heavy on my heart, but Asgard fairs well. What of the rest of you?" He turned to the other three Avengers.

All shared the expression of having seen better days. But that was fine. Things were still settling down. Everyone was coping. Each had their share of dark days, and this was their chance to speak openly.

The stoic Natasha was the first to speak. "My missions so far have been excruciatingly simple. I wouldn't mind another alien invasion."

"Be careful what you wish for, 'Tasha," Clint chimed in, "with our luck, we just might get one."

"I'd say I've had my fill." Steve added, clenching and unclenching his fist. "A good break is in order, considering this past year alone." For once, Tony agreed with him. The group chatted on for a long while.

_Later… _

Tony made it back to the Tower. It was nice to see the others under normal circumstances. He leaned against the wall of the elevator, eyes set on the floor. Jarvis notified him of the time, insisting that he get some rest. But he somehow knew that sleep would be a difficult thing to get tonight. The doors opened with a quiet _ding_, and he stepped out on the 94th floor.

He needed a drink.

Switching the lights on, he found a glass, setting it on the counter in front of him.

It was funny, what alcohol could do to people. It made some giddy. It made others bitter and resentful. But for Tony, the intoxicating drink quieted his mind. It made him calm. It made him somewhat dependent on its effects. Alcohol had been an issue for him long before he met the people he knew today. It had gotten better over the years, his new life closing a few dark chapters of his past. He'd hidden it well, but there were times when he just needed his mind to go blank.

He picked his poison. He poured it into the glass. He drank to forget.

A soft sigh passed his lips as he took his first sip. Letting go was easy. That was never the problem. Coming back from it was the difficult part.

To the public eye, he had some semblance of collectedness. Even Pepper wasn't entirely aware of his internal conflictions. He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the counter.

"Jarvis. Music."

_"__Sir, I strongly advise you to refrain from further—"_

"Music." After a few seconds, the AI complied.

Satisfied, the billionaire shut his eyes as he brought the glass to his lips a second time. One glass quickly turned into two. Then three. Everything mattered a little less now. He wasn't Tony. He wasn't Mr. Stark. He wasn't Iron Man. He was just Anthony. He could truly think.

"Dim the lights. Eighty percent."

As the lights faded, the pale light of the moon filtered modestly through the curtains of a cracked window. A satisfying buzz filled the man's head, and he resisted another sip. This was the perfect time to stop. He couldn't be completely inebriated. He wouldn't be able to enjoy this. Putting the drink away for another day, he took a seat and simply listened to the music. It wasn't long before he was moving with the rhythm, his head unabashedly swaying from side to side. Then the music stopped.

_"__Sir."_

Sigh. "Yes, Jarv?"

_"__The doctor seems to be having… complications again. I suggest you remedy the issue. Or will you disregard that as well?"_

"Sass? From you? This is new."

_"__Far from new, Sir. You programmed me this way."_

"I did, didn't I? Remind me to kick myself later."

_"__I believe you are stalling, Sir."_

Damn right he was. He knew the moment he saw the doctor that familiar sinking feeling would return, nauseating him. And more importantly, it would ruin his buzz.

Still, he had to go.

…But not without another drink.

….

"Hey. Wake up." Bruce's eyes cracked open, a small spell of dizziness following. Lifting his head, he found himself on the couch, fingers digging into the leather material. He loosened his grip, blinking away grogginess. When had he fallen asleep? He looked to his right. There Tony stood, glass of alcohol in hand. "You have a bedroom, you know."

"I'm aware." Bruce replied, stretching. Glancing at his watch, he raised a brow. About 3 hours had passed since his little excursion. "I don't remember dozing off."

"Jarvis detected the usual unusual. Nights still difficult?" Tony brought the glass to his lips.

"Apparently. But I'll manage." The doctor stood and stepped away, stealing a curious glance in Tony's direction. "How did it go?"

"Pretty good. Steve and Natasha seem to be getting good and cozy as of late, Thor's hanging in there, Clint's still Clint. But apparently we all need a break from the hero thing. Too bad that kind of thing's out of our hands."

Bruce shrugged a shoulder. "It all comes with the territory. Besides, you love the attention."

"A lot of people think that." Tony took another sip, briefly catching the other's gaze. "A lot of people are wrong." A long pause.

"Really? I never pegged you as the introverted type."

"That's your department. I'm just a person who very much likes his sanity and intends to keep it."

"Understandable. Still, that public face of yours is impeccable."

"I know." Tony downed the rest of the drink. His tongue flicked across his lips and his gaze darkened. Without another word, he turned and headed for the exit.

"Since you're here I might as well ask if your issues are now worth talking about."

Tony froze. "…No more questions, Bruce."

"I'll take that as a 'no'." The doctor took a few cautious steps forward. "Whatever it is, Tony, talk about it to someone. Anyone."

"Sure. That's what I'll do."

"I'm serious. It's obvious—" The billionaire finally turned to face him, a look of mild rage further darkening his features.

"Look. I'm asking you in plain English to let it go. So _let it go_."

Lidded, dark eyes stared into Bruce's, lacking their usual intensity. The scent of rum carried through the air, tipping him off to just how much the other had been drinking. "That's a bad idea."

The billionaire knowingly glanced at the empty glass in his hand. "We all have our share of unhealthy practices, Doctor. As long as it works it's fine by me."

"Is it?" The doctor queried.

"Is it what?"

"Working."

"Not anymore." Tony rolled his eyes, resignation slowly replacing aggravation. "You ruined it."

"I… 'ruined' it." The doctor repeated incredulously. A tired smile spread on his face as he mindlessly toyed with the cuff of his shirt. Tony was definitely out of it. "I doubt it was my fault."

"You doubt wrong."

"Well, that could certainly be different, now couldn't it?"

Tony blinked, seeming to marinate on their little back and forth. For the longest of moments, he stared through Bruce, almost ignoring the entire fact that he was there. Then he stepped forward. Directly in front of the other, he sighed, his furrowed brow betraying his otherwise unbothered countenance. He rested a hand on the other's shoulder, finally meeting his gaze. "Bruce… I'm afraid, alright? I admit it. This is nothing Pepper knows about. This is nothing anyone knows about. I don't know where the hell this is coming from and I don't know why." Bruce remained silent, not quite following. "All this? The frustration, the aggression, the drinking? You make me do it. I shove you away so I can think. So I can understand _why_—" Tony paused and stepped away, mid-sentence.

"What'm I… I can't do this."

"I, uh…I don't follow."

The billionaire shifted his weight to his good leg, examining his glass disappointedly before setting it down on an accent table. "Of course you don't, Doctor. This is me, drunk and out of my wits. I'm not making any sense right now."

"You're making sense, surprisingly. Just not complete sense. What exactly are you trying to understand?"

Time seemed to demand attention through the quiet ticking of Bruce's watch. It was an expectant and almost mocking sound. Tony wanted to throw the damn thing out of the window.

"…It's fine, Tony. I'll leave it alone." The doctor raised a dismissive hand, turning to retrieve his glasses resting on a nearby countertop.

"No," The other finally jumped in, "it's not fine with me. I'm not letting this bother me more than it already has. Look…" He took a step forward. "There're some things I've been… grappling with recently. Involving you." The doctor turned, eyes narrowed with a curious look. Tony sighed, the alcohol finally loosening his tongue. "Remember the time I said I was fond of you? I may've underestimated just how 'fond' I am." The perplexed expression on the other's face only made him smile. There was no point in stopping now. "Not the answer you were expecting? Me neither. Of course, there's a problem here, having… strong feelings for two people at the same time." It was Bruce's turn to smile. "You're joking, right?" "Sure, Banner. I'm joking." Tony stepped closer, eye to eye with the other.

The smile on the doctor's face quickly faded, hands searching for something to do. He tore his gaze downward, wiping imaginary dust off the lens of his glasses. "I don't know what to make of this, Tony." He really didn't. He didn't want to believe it, either. But it made sense. If he looked up, he would see it. That glint in Tony's eyes. Thinking back, he'd seen it a couple of times during his stay. Now he knew what it meant. But he didn't deserve that look. The billionaire snatched the spectacles from his hands, putting them up to the light. "Seem clean to me. Keep at it and you're gonna pop a lens out."

Bruce frowned. "I should go."

"You should stay." Tony leaned forward, handing back the glasses. "I said what was on my mind. It's your turn." He leaned forward another inch. "What're you afraid of all of a sudden?" The doctor was rigid and tense, staring straight ahead.

"…I'm afraid you're going to do something you'll regret."

"Yeah?" Tony stopped inches from the other's face.

"You don't know what you're doing."

"Not my fault."

"Tony—" The billionaire's lips pressed gently against his, silencing him. The doctor was paralyzed, arms limp at his sides. He saw it coming. He could've moved. His eyes shut. He could be moving right now. But he was… enjoying this. His lips moved against Tony's, much to his objection.

He shouldn't be enjoying this.

The moment was brief, cut short. Tony quickly pulled away, realization filling his eyes with disbelief and shock. "…I'm sorry." Avoiding the doctor's gaze, he turned and left.

Bruce didn't stop him.

AN: There you have it, people, Chapter 8! Hope you enjoyed, and don't forget to review! 3


	9. Chapter 9

AN: Hey, my loyal readers! It's been a little while since the last chapter, and I apologize. There's been a lot going on what with prom and graduation. (College, here I come!) Anyway, this is a long one. Tony-centric. Enjoy!

Bruce pursed his lips in thought, still and silent. He just wanted to know one thing:

_Why?_

What was Tony thinking? The man was jeopardizing the beautiful relationship he already had. He wanted too much. Bruce learned very quickly not to want. Certain things were just unattainable. Off limits. And yet when it happened the physicist didn't fight against it.

…What was _he_ thinking?

He'd definitely felt something for his opposite at one point or another, but abandoned that feeling to detachment years ago. He found no reason to hold onto anything like that, especially the way he is. It was just… routine. The billionaire's company had always been enough, and the thought of there being something more hardly crossed Bruce's mind. For the most part, he came out unscathed. But there was still that small part of him that was unguarded. A part of him that still wanted. And sometimes it got its way.

"Way to take hold of the situation, Banner," he muttered to himself, finally making a move for his room. _Wooed by your half-drunk friend…_

He couldn't _wait_ to see Tony when he sobered up.

…

Once he made it to his wardrobe, Tony tore off his restricting suit, changing into something much more comfortable. Beads of sweat ran idly down his temple; he was hot, from both the liquor and his nerves. Donning a gray tank top and black sweats, he made his way to the top floor and stood outside on the elongated platform. The air provided relief for now, gently combing its fingers through his dark hair. He smiled, but he wasn't amused.

He should've just ignored the doctor and kept walking.

He was surprised Bruce didn't at least punch him. Hell, even a sidestep would have sufficed. But the doctor did nothing. In fact, Tony noticed the doctor leaning into the kiss. He had more secrets than he led on.

"Dammit, Bruce," he sighed, _where the hell do you stand?_

Tony's lips formed a thin line. The chill was getting to him, but he didn't want to go back in. Not for a while. His face was once again bathed in a familiar blue as he looked down. Lights and sounds filled the streets just as they did during the day. Nothing slowed down. Hardly anything stopped, and if it did, it was never for long.

At one point, he thought he could be that for the world, a hero without an off switch. But he soon found out even he needed to take a breather. In that same regard, he was reaching his proverbial limit with the doctor. He couldn't stand being kept out of the loop. Something had to give.

...

_Later…_

"Doctor."

"…Stark."

"Sleep through the night?"

"I did. You?"

"…I slept."

The downward lurch of the elevator made both feel lighter than normal.

They ran into one another a bit… soon.

Bruce was dressed for a late morning excursion, a windbreaker hanging from his forearm and a small umbrella in his other hand. The other, however, seemed to be doing the opposite. Toolbox in gloved hand, the engineer was headed for the lower section of the Tower. He'd moved a few of his projects down there, since there were more tools and material to work with. A brief glance. A long stare in the other direction. "Guess I'll be the one to say it," Tony spoke up. "We need to talk. Preferably soon."

"I agree."

"Glad you do. I have a lot to answer for. And so do you."

"…I'm not denying it."

Tony leaned against the elevator wall, looking to the tersely articulated doctor. Bruce's lips formed a thin line, his brown eyes fixed downward. They soon met Tony's, quickly moving on to something less… grabbing. "Tony, I don't—"

Ding.

The elevator stopped on the 37th floor. "Later." Tony insisted. The doors opened. The doors closed. Bruce was left alone with his thoughts.

…

_2 hours later…_

"How's the work coming along, hon?" Pepper stood alongside Tony, watching him as he worked.

"Artificial gravity field's almost up and running. Just gotta add this last piece…" He attached a small magnetic sphere to the core of the suit and activated it. Pressing a button on his wristband, the suit disassembled and engulfed him, reassembling quickly and flawlessly around his body. "Alright. Let's see some results." Pepper watched as he approached a wall… and proceeded to walk along it. It took a moment to adjust, but he moved just the same as he would on the ground. He jumped and fell towards the wall's surface, satisfied.

"Jarv, any strain on the field?"

_"None detected, Mr. Stark. The field overpowers the earth's gravity by 3.8 g. It should perform optimally in outer space."_

"That's what I like to hear." The engineer jumped once more, pressing another button on his armored wrist, deactivating the device in midair. He landed on the tiled floor without any problem or strain (the suit protected his bad leg from further damage). "Next order of business," he lowered his faceplate, "How'm I breathing?"

_"Air pressure and quality is excellent. Oxygen: 100%. Armor sealed tight and heavily insulated. You're breathing quite comfortably, Sir."_

"That's another thing I like to hear. A couple more tweaks and we'll be ready for a test drive."

_"Indeed."_

A soft hand caressed the engineer's clean-shaven face as soon as the faceplate lifted. "You're amazing."

"I know. So are you." The two shared a quick kiss. But it burned. Tony ignored it.

With a verbal command, the suit detached itself from his body, retrieved piece by piece by the now open floor. "I'm 'nna take five. Join me in the gym?"

"Sure thing."

…

Damp curls stuck to the doctor's forehead, small droplets balancing precariously on their ends. He was a bit slow opening the umbrella. The wind didn't help. But he didn't really mind. A walk outside was a walk outside, rain or no rain. He actually welcomed it. It was a very therapeutic… and expressive phenomenon. Sometimes it came down warm and comforting. Other times, it fell accompanied by the kiss of sunlight. But right now, it was steady and cool. Calm. Nothing like that night. Everything about that night was… cold. He hadn't felt cold quite like that since then. Brown eyes scanned the sky. The rain wouldn't last long. Patches of blue punctured the blanket of gray above, promising a clear day by afternoon. And hopefully by then, he'd have cleared his mind, too. The fog of confusion loomed heavily over his head. Bruce knew himself very well. He was a feeler. Always has been. But even he wasn't quite sure what to feel then. Ashamed? Like an idiot? Nothing at all? Perhaps everything combined. The rain came down a little harder now.

…He wouldn't fight it. Repressing or denying wasn't going to work for the people who offered him help and consolation. It wasn't going to work for him. He needed to be completely open. And today, he would.

…

A small towel hung loosely around Tony's shoulders. He sat still and quietly on a bench, waiting for his breathing to slow. His bare torso bore the familiar arc reactor, along with a few, more recent scars. A black brace supported his left leg, a long and deep scar running from thigh to shin.

Tony reached for the chilled bottle of water beside him, pressing it against his forehead before guzzling it.

Pepper stood across the gym, stretching her deltoids. Strands of hair fell around her face while the rest was pulled into a sloppy ponytail. She looked very inviting. "I say you can do 40 more crunches."

"I could've also done 40 less." His core burned with the slightest movement, as did the rest of his torso. Maybe he'd gone a little overboard. For once, his leg was in the least amount of discomfort. The pain faded slowly as the months passed by, but that limp would stay with him for quite a while.

Bruce got him good.

Then again, what could he expect from the half-panicked, half-enraged doctor? He pushed quite a few of his buttons that day. Dug up quite a few memories that were best left buried. He remembered nothing but searing pain once it was over. Pepper sat next to him, placing her hand over his.

"What's on your mind?"

"Not much."

"What's 'not much'?"

He smiled. "A funny thought. Looks like I'm slowly becoming Iron Man inside as well as out."

The woman couldn't find the humor in that. It was one of her daily worries… That Tony would grow completely dependent on machines… To move. To think. To live. "Iron Man should only ever be your outer shell. You lose yourself any other way."

"I think it's always been a part of me. It has to be, to do what we do as heroes. It took a blast to the chest to figure it out, but hey, a lot came from it." The billionaire turned to look at her. "I'm doing some real good after years and years of standing behind the death industry. And I'm only gonna do better. The prices I pay matter less and less as time goes on. I don't want you to worry."

"You know I always do."

"…I know."

…

_"You seem a bit anxious today, Mr. Stark."_

"Just jitters before blast off, Jarv. I'll get over it."

He'd been holding off on this project. What took 4 weeks to complete, he could very well have done in a few short days. When motivated, he was a very efficient worker. But cold, dead space was a touchy subject for him.

_"Perhaps it also pertains to your recent regression into excessive drinking, Sir."_

"Maybe it does. Sue me."

_"Quite frankly, any repercussions you face will be of your own doing. I certainly hope, however, that breaking point will never be reached."_

"Fine, Jarv. I'll toss all my booze. Turn over a new leaf. Will you be happy then?"

_"Will you?"_

Dark brows furrowed incredulously. "Yeah. I will. But let's not play 'therapist and patient' right now. Besides," the suit secured itself around his body, the life support system attached at the back, "only I get to be the therapist."

_70 minutes later…_

_"We are now approaching the stratosphere."_

The suit's jets were on maximum burn, and Tony kept his gaze forward. His last trip to the vacuum was a lot less… pleasant. This was alright. This was doable. He just had to keep telling himself that. The further he went, the more he wanted to touch back down, though he knew the armor wasn't faulty. The Sun's radiation couldn't affect him. The air was more than breathable. Communication was clear and static-free. But for some reason, he couldn't shake the feeling that he wasn't safe. It was irrational, he knew that. Anxiety could do that to a person. But he'd get through it. He always did. The empty husk of a once-pristine shuttle hovered in plain sight, and the engineer smiled past his trepidation. "Jarv, power up the field. It's time for the real test."

_"My pleasure, Mr. Stark."_

The arc reactor glowed brightly, illuminating the worn surface of the hull. A concentrated laser beam sliced through its thick metal frame with ease, allowing entry. Large and frayed cables littered the floor, and evidence of combustion blackened the surrounding walls. From what he was told, the craft held valuable information yet to be commandeered for the winning team. Whatever data Jarvis collected would be as harmless as any classified information could be. Or so he would like to think. SHIELD knew Tony was very capable of finding out what he wanted to know. But the billionaire and the agency had been on fairly good terms for a little over two years now, so there was no need for that. There hadn't much deviation from any assigned mission. Much. SHIELD adjusted to it, albeit reluctantly. The job was done either way. Once found, the information was extracted and downloaded into a small chip similar to the one he used on the Helicarrier. Tony relayed his progress to Pepper via radio transmission, and took his leave. Jetting across the vacuum, he looked back at the worn structure. The shuttle eventually had to be dismantled, and he'd likely have a hand in that.

…

Reentering the atmosphere was a very… jostling experience. Though Tony correctly followed the course home, the flight was a lot bumpier than imagined. The coolant systems were on overdrive, and he thankfully sustained no burns. The suit held its own very well, suffering only a heated exterior. The rain helped a bit. Still, the engineer didn't look forward to the next trip. For now, he was glad that things such as planets to land on existed, and tomorrow, he was to give the information to SHIELD. Greeted with a hug and congratulated by his longest supporter, he believed he earned some down time. He stood where he did the previous night, letting the rain pelt him as it would. He just had to feel that for a second. Eventually, whatever anxieties he had fell with the rain, and he could watch it from the inside of the Tower.

"Hon, you're soaked! Wouldn't a pool have been better?" Pepper joked, grabbing him from behind.

"Oh, well. Too late for that, I guess."

"You did great up there. Wanna talk about what it was like?"

"Oh, you know, a bunch of nothing here, a bunch of nothing there."

Pepper rolled her eyes. "Yep, space is a vacuum, after all." Running her hand through his damp hair, she smiled. "You know what I meant. How did it feel?"

"Honestly? It was kind of an eye opener. All that empty space out there. All the more reason to protect our little blue pearl."

She hugged him tighter, chuckling. "Couldn't help but add a little heroic spiel in there, I see."

"Don't mind walking around in damp clothes, I see."

"They'll dry."

With a warm smile, he rested his hands on hers. This closeness was wanted, but it also ate away at the billionaire. He would block it out, acknowledging only the comforts. And it would work… for a time. This feeling was being shared, and it was really beginning to take its toll. He drew in a sharp breath, stepping away from the woman's embrace. "Standing in the rain wasn't such a good idea. I'm gonna hit the shower."

…

Bruce turned Isis's card over and over in his hand. She probably knew exactly what he was doing right now. It was still hard to believe. She practically told him what he found out hours later. He just didn't see it at the time. Or he just didn't want to see it. Blind eyes have nothing to fear. It was always safer that way, for anyone. But the blindness could only ever be temporary. He walked past the psychic's building, heading to the diner a few blocks down. He'd saved a few thousands of dollars as a doctor overseas, and he used it very sparingly. But even that couldn't last more than a year. He'd been looking for a new job at a lab and was successful, and was only waiting to hear back. Things were definitely looking up. Now if they could stay that way.

The rain lightened until it eventually stopped. Closing and shaking his umbrella dry, he looked up at the sky once more. Half an hour earlier, he silently congratulated Tony on making it to space and back, watching as a bright orange streak jetted across the sky and to the Tower. He had a… cautious curiosity about the emptiness above. He'd actually entertained the notion of being shot up into space, left alone with no one to hurt. No air to breathe. But that was a thought he seldom, if at all, returned to now. He approached the diner.

…

The billionaire wiped excess water from his face as he stared into the mirror. God, he was tired. But he always worked best with minimal sleep. The headache was finally getting to him as well. He subdued it for a few hours, but it came back stronger. Thankfully, the rest of the day was his. He hadn't thought much about how he was going to spend it. He didn't want to. Today would be taken as it was given. Swallowing the painkillers in his hand, he got dressed and headed to the lounge room.

"Could use a massage," he sighed to himself. Maybe he'd set up an appointment soon. Maybe a nice, painful appointment. Joint cracking and all. Just a minor punishment for the way he's acted. He frowned, suddenly in need of a drink. He shook his head, heading to the mini fridge. That drink would be water. Taking the bottle, Tony sat down, pulling out his phone.

**_To:_** **Bruce**

**_Lounge room. 96th floor. 6:00. Capisce?_**

The billionaire took a moment to stare at the pending text, chin in hand. Bruce better have his phone on him. Pressing 'send', he grabbed a magazine yet to be read, flipping through the tabloids. The paparazzi hadn't been on his case for months. They had to be planning something elaborate. He'd be ready. Just when he got to the good stuff, the phone came to life, a short, catchy tune breaking the silence. That was fast.

**_Bruce:_**

**_Got it. Be there shortly._**

Tony gave a small frown. Bruce and his ambiguity. "Be there in an hour" would've been nice. "Be there in two hours" would've been better. But… No. This elephant had to be taken care of as soon as possible. It was odd; he couldn't exactly recall when it'd become a problem. It just happened. God, he wished it could un-happen. Returning to the magazine, he stopped himself. Dwelling and brooding was Bruce's thing.

…

"So you know now." Isis smiled, gazing curiously into Bruce's eyes. "I can see how others have touched a person, emotionally, spiritually, mentally. You're no different."

"I don't suppose there's a better way of letting me know I'm being followed."

"I wasn't following. Not really. Your aura just caught my attention."

"…My aura. Let me guess. Is it green?"

"It's a deep red, actually."

He really didn't want to see her right now. But 'fate' must've caused them to bump into each other as he left the diner. "Oh, deep red. That's nice. Sorry, Isis, but I have to go."

"I think you mean you want to run."

"Sure." Isis looked on as the doctor walked briskly ahead. Shaking her head, the older woman followed after him.

"I thought we had a little… connection, no?" A connection he'd like to sever… At least for now. For a stranger, this woman knew too much. If she dug too deep, he'd remember something he might not want to. What then?

…Wait. No. He wasn't doing this anymore. He stopped, as did the woman.

"...Sorry, Isis. That was rude. I just had a bit of a relapse." Gaze set forward, he quietly added, "And to answer your question, yes. I know now."

"Hm. Might you believe in the saying 'ignorance is bliss'?" It was her turn to walk ahead. "Reach out when you can," she called back, "we'll see if anything's changed. All things in due time, after all." She turned and disappeared on the next block. Bruce paused, stared, then continued walking. Well then. Another immaculate reading from Isis. He'd better learn to get used to it.

…

"Well, you're here." Tony sighed, body language open and relaxed.

"That I am."

The two sat across from each other, one staring out the window and the other at the floor. Security was manually lowered in the room; Tony made it his business that nothing that was said would be recorded in any way.

Gathering his words, the billionaire finally looked at the doctor. "I have this crazy theory, Bruce. I think you've been hiding more things than you care to let on."

Bruce looked up, raising a brow. "You aren't wrong. And it seems the same can be said for you."

"Yeah." Drumming his fingers on the armrest, he continued. "I like you, Bruce. That much was made clear last night. As sober as I am now, I've finally mustered the pluck to call it for what it is. Can you?"

The doctor laced his fingers together, expression blank. "That's why we're here, isn't it?" He straightened in his seat, almost rigid. "How long…?" He knew he didn't have to finish the sentence.

"If I were to make an educated guess, I'd say the potential may've been growing for a year or two. What about you?"

"How'd you even guess something was up?"

Brows raised, he knowingly tilted his head. "I wasn't so mind-bogglingly drunk that I couldn't tell you were kissing back. Now you answer my question."

"…Nearly three years, it looks like." He smiled a small, crooked smile. "It's odd, Tony. It's something I can actually count in years. I was so sure it just came and went."

"Guess we're on a similar boat. Except I assumed it never was." The billionaire's gaze didn't falter. "…Let me level with you here, Banner. You think I'm calm, cool and collected right now. And that's good. That's exactly what I wanted you to think. But it's all just a face. I'm good at that. Fact is, Bruce, I'm beginning to get uncharacteristically jittery around you; something's been building. But you," Tony almost smiled, "you're really good at the whole 'confidential' thing." The doctor looked away, still feeling the other's eyes on him. He didn't want to hear this. "What's the problem, Bruce? Just speaking my mind here."

"Please—don't. Just for a second."

"We're here to talk."

"I know that." Brown eyes rose to meet dark ones. An internal shiver. A dismissal. "I wanted to pick your brain about what's been bothering you for the longest. And now I can."

"But now you don't want to." Tony sighed.

"Now I know the feeling is mutual. I'm having some trouble accepting that I… I'm happy about it." The doctor ran his fingers through his curls, slightly tugging at them before letting them go. His charisma. His confidence. His 'do-or-die' attitude. His genius. All were qualities he'd grown to admire, even in the very beginning. "It isn't right. I don't want to like what I feel, Tony. And you're not helping."

"Bruce, it's fine."

"It isn't."

"I know how you—"

"Tony—no. This always happens. I don't want to do this to you, or myself. That's why I kept quiet. The whole damn thing's unraveling. Everything's rushing out too fast."

Tony stared on, watching as the other stood, hands in pockets. Brows furrowed, he almost glared at the billionaire. "I don't want to remember or feel myself falling for a lost cause. It doesn't make any sense. And yet, for some reason, I do. It's better to just forget all this." He walked to the nearest window, mentally kicking himself. Moments later, the billionaire followed, leaning against the wall. He wanted to say something, but for once, he was speechless. Instead, he rested a consoling hand on the other's shoulder. Bruce turned to look at him, frustration in his eyes.

"Tony."

"Yeah."

"…I want to kiss you."

AN: And there it is! This one was a biggie. Again, thank you for being patient! Love ya and don't forget to review!


	10. Chapter 10

**AN:** Wow, guys. It's been over a year. Wow. I apologize to those who've been waiting for so long; I've been drawing, getting my head straight, going to school, yada yada yada. But it's finally here, the 10th chapter! Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it

That was… stupid.

Bruce stepped away from the window, vigorously shaking his head. The frustration never faded from his brown eyes. "I don't know why I said that." He didn't bother looking at the other. "Sorry."

"It's fine, Bruce." Tony spoke up. "All you did was state the obvious."

The doctor tried and failed to hold back a small laugh, bittersweet as it was. Shaking his head some more, he looked at the other genius. _Stop it, _he silently implored. _Stop making all this feel okay. _Laughter for the doctor was rare and good, except in this particular moment. It was a useless little thing now. It was a lie he told himself for a short time. And for a short time, he would believe it. That wouldn't work now. His smile faded. "Since you know so much already, I think it's time I leave." Tony sighed loudly.

"Are you seriously doing this again?"

"Well, this is me getting my coat. I guess I am." Before he could race for the exit, a hand wrapped itself around his wrist. He turned to find patient eyes.

"You have _such _an addiction to leaving without any sort of closure. It's gonna ruin you."

"Closure doesn't exist here." He pulled against Tony's grasp. Tony pulled back.

"All I've seen you do lately is run, Bruce. That's why closure doesn't exist. You work so hard to make people buy the bullshit you're selling, and it's toxic. One way or another, it's all gonna reach the surface."

"Trust me, Tony, I don't need a lecture on that." A look of genuine disbelief crossed the engineer's face.  
It was funny.  
Tony always thought he knew more than he actually did. Though Banner supposed it wasn't his fault. That's just the way it is with him. "…I'm done." Tony stared at him, befuddled. "What?"

"As in you win. I give up."

"I was never trying to win against you."

"But you did anyway. And so I'm taking your advice." Tony's grip wavered, but he said nothing. "I'm getting some closure." He leaned forward, pulling Tony into a kiss. His other arm instantly fell free. Slowly, the other relaxed, leaned into it. There was no excuse behind it this time; it was without thought, coming from the deepest sincerities. Any prior fear quickly dissolved. For the moment it was good. For the moment it was right. It wasn't long before Tony pulled him closer, deepening the kiss. He almost forgot about all this, the way Tony made him feel. He tried damn hard to. It almost worked. But all that time spent throwing a sheet over the obvious was meaningless. With a simple look the other erased it all. Tony was powerful. He was so willing and open and influential. He helped him more times than he could count. Bruce couldn't help but fall for that. It was fast. It was inevitable.

A sincere look of awe and admiration softened the doctor's features as their lips parted, heart fluttering and soaring. He'd forgotten what that was like, wanting oh so badly to lace his fingers with Tony's, speak his truth, if only for a moment. Here stood kindred spirits, and those brief few seconds of shared passion had all but proven that. But when all was said and done, an unshakeable sense of dread tainted the cathartic air. "…We're horrible. You know that, right?" Bruce brought his hand over his face, sighing. "We're terrible."

"Yeah," Tony exhaled, "what's new?" It was a stupid thing to do. But a moment like that had a way of… pulling the person along for the ride. He tried to ignore the guilt gnawing at him, caught in a mental tug of war. After a few moments passed, the engineer finally managed to set his gaze on the other, who looked borderline defeated. "Goodness, Tony, you should've let me go. I'm not in the right mind."

"And you think I am?"

"No, you don't get it." Bruce chuckled soullessly, rubbing his chin. "I'm the problem, Tony. I've been driving a wedge between you and Pep—"

"—Don't." Tony interjected, voice low. "Don't pull the 'Pepper' card. It's cheap and you know it." Her name sent a chill through him he wasn't quite ready to feel. The burn of Bruce's affections still lingered, an unrelenting reminder of what had just happened. "You and I both know you wouldn't've done what you did if you really had her in mind." Bruce cracked a smile, dragging his fingers along the fine upholstery as he created a little distance. "Can't be blamed for the same thing twice, Tony. I already beat you to it. And besides," the man fixed his collar, "I wouldn't throw myself under the bus like that if I were you. I could say the same." "…Shut up, Bruce." He didn't get to be the mouthy one. Not now. But he was right. Oh, god, he was right. Tony'd be nothing short of a liar if he said a tiny part of him hadn't… anticipated this. "I thought you _wanted_ me to talk. For _closure's_ sake." The doctor's thick brow arched, tongue laced with a subtle venom to which the other had no defense. The storm of want whirled in his heavy eyes, masked only by the cool glare of his lenses. "Alright. I 'fessed up. I managed to sully your relationship in under an hour. So what now? I did all that for what?"

For a while, Tony was silent. For a while, he almost lost this dangerous game of verbal tango. A thought came to him, then another, reproducing and dividing and filling his muddled head. His eyes were wide, trained on the other with a look of almost… uncertainty. Doubt was a scary look on him; his deep, dark orbs suddenly seemed shallow and void. But he caught himself in time, just before he fell into the trap Bruce was lost in. He spoke. "Doesn't matter. Trying to figure out the '_why_'s' in life doesn't get anyone very far. For example, I could ask you _why _you've visited a psychic." The doctor blinked. That caught his attention. Tony slowly kneeled down and picked up the fallen card. "I could ask you _why _you continue to torture yourself, or _why _you always end up coming back, despite your clear and standing argument. But an answer just wouldn't measure up. It wouldn't matter… so long as the end result's satisfactory."

"And is this 'satisfactory'?"

"Can't say. I don't think we've reached the 'end'." The engineer handed Bruce his card. He slowly took it.

"Define the 'end'."

"Can't do that either."

"…Right." Banner blankly stared at the blue text on the card, lips pressed into a thin line. "I think a little… differently than you."

"I've noticed."

"As in," The doctor continued, "I know where to draw the line."

"Yeah? Strange timing for _that_ sort of revelation, Doctor—"

"TONY." The engineer blinked, taken aback. It'd been a while since Bruce raised his voice. It had the kind of bass that could silence an entire room. The body language changed. Stiffened. Stifled. Cautious. The doctor's hands clenched into fists at his sides, gaze collapsing to the floor once again. He took a deep breath in and gained his mental bearings. "Listen… If the circumstances were different… if this were another life or another period in time, Tony, believe me... I could do this. But this," he gestured to the space between them, "this just isn't gonna work."

"Work?" Tony guffawed. "Believe me, I never planned that far ahead. All I wanted was to put you at ease. You're a tightly-wound man. That alone is a hard thing to make 'work'." The billionaire shrugged a shoulder, continuing. "We said our words. We… got lost in a little fantasy for a few short moments." His bandaged fingers curled into loose fists and slowly opened up. He repeated this three or four times before speaking up again. "There's a reason you and I fought this so hard; we saw the dead end from miles away, and we still pushed it. Scientist mentality." He came just a little bit closer to the doctor, watching as he finally tucked the card into his wallet. "Get this. You and Peps? There's no one else in the world like you two. So maybe I'm asking for too much right now and maybe I'm being needy but I really, really would appreciate it if you didn't walk out on me after this."

"Ha." Bruce laughed off the not-so-subtle flutter in his chest, flicking a hair from his line of vision. "Believe me, I want to." Except he didn't. He _knew _he didn't. "But I'd be a coward and a quitter if I did."

"And you do_ so _hate those two things."

"That I do. Tell you what." He sat at the counter nearby, clearly settled a bit. "You fix me up with a Bellini, and you have yourself a deal."

"Pfft. A _Bellini?_ Wuss."

"I prefer the terms 'subtle yet classy'." They both felt it. Slowly, things were returning to some semblance of normal. Their light banter was refreshing, a spritzing of playfulness over the initial air of tension. They missed it. They needed it. And so for Bruce, Tony played bartender, mixing the light concoction as requested.

"Gotta say, Bruce, it's unlike you to want a drink."

"It's unlike me to do a lot of what I've done lately. Besides, it can't hurt, can it?"

Tony smirked. "No, I guess not."

Bruce quietly drummed his fingers on the marble surface of the counter, head propped up by his fist. "…She knew what was up before I did, the psychic."

"Yeah, that's usually how that stuff works."

"No… She knew it was _you._ She knew _me._ It was… impressive. I didn't expect it."

"Who's to say it wasn't a bunch of lucky guesswork?"

"I dunno. Who's to say it was?" A tall, thin glass was pushed into his open hand, the peachy drink carrying a faint aroma. The doctor brought it to his lips, sipping quietly. There was a small sigh, a quiet hum of satisfaction. It'd been a while since he'd tasted something so gentle and crisp. It was both simple and profoundly pleasing, a knife to cut through the stress. "Thanks." "No problem. We had a deal, after all." There was a smile in Bruce's eye as he took another sip, continuing. "You know, this all turned out… better than I'd imagined." It was true. The storm of emotions had now dwindled to a mere breeze. Much more manageable. Much more… safe. At least, that's what the moment allowed him to feel. And hell, he rather liked it that way. "I'm gonna have to agree with you there, Bruce." Tony dropped a few cubes of ice in his own glass. A Bellini wasn't nearly as bad as what he had been drinking, he told himself. "Let's hope it stays that way, yeah?" He treated himself to a bit of the peachy concoction, its endearing flavor making up for its lack of a burn.

The man raised his glass confidently, arc reactor beginning to glow more prominently. "To smooth sailing."

"Yes…"

_Clink._

"To smooth sailing."

As they uttered those words, their eyes met, holding an equal, tacit darkness. The burden of keeping things locked away. A secret that no others were to know. Smooth sailing? Maybe not so much. But it would be. In the meantime, Banner just broke into a fit of soft laughter.

"What?" Curious, ebony eyes brightened, while their softer counterparts averted.

"Nothing."

"Nope. You gotta tell me." Tony leaned in over the counter, all ears.

"I just… It's funny to me, the whole 'fate' thing. It's always changing with every decision you make, every little event." He paused and rubbed his chin, gaze fallen to the smooth countertop. "So why do I feel like no matter how this goes, you're somehow the be-all and end-all of my sanity?" He laughed some more, sipping at his drink. "It's stupid."

"It's flattering. And stupid." He tottered from behind the counter and decided to take a seat next to the other. "You seem to put me on a high pedestal. Why's that?" "You're really asking me this?" Tony was the voice, the hands, the intellect. The one who always had a wise crack to throw in the most trying of times, with a spunk and sureness that didn't always come so easy to others. A human with an almost godlike air about him. But of course, it was all a show. Follow him behind closed doors and anyone could see the façade begin to crumble away. But it was an impressive one, and one he tricked even himself to believe, until it became nearly true. "Would you have ever guessed I was a bit… envious of you when we first met?" "Now THAT," Tony poked him in the shoulder, "is _extraordinarily_ stupid. Your argument is flawed, and let me tell you why: You, Bruce Banner, are a better man than I am." The other's dead and telling silence only encouraged him to continue. "And you know what? Maybe that's why it's been so damn hard for you all this time. The effort it takes, the effort you give to stay in control and stay… _you_ is, quite frankly, astounding. I mean, come on. I honestly can't think of anyone else who can carry that sorta weight on their shoulders." He threw back his last sip of the mild alcohol with a sigh.

By this time, the doctor was fiddling with the uneven cuff of his sleeve. "…Wow," he hums softly, chewing his lip. "Wow, Tony."

"Damn right, 'wow'. I've dealt my fair share of destruction and mayhem, believe me. I'm making up for it every day. If you could see things my way for just a second, maybe, _just maybe_, you'd find yourself agreeing with me." Before he could continue with his speech, Bruce's hand clasped his shoulder. The engineer expected for his words to be brushed aside, downplayed. But no. "Thanks." Banner's eyes were gentle, earnest. No words of denial spewed from his upturned lips, a quiet exhale from the nose causing his shoulders to slowly sink. It was a bit of a shock, to be honest, but certainly not unwelcome. Maybe the Doctor was beginning to see things his way after all. "Yeah. You're welcome." Bruce gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze before letting go. With a toss of the head his drink was gone too, a mild, pleasant warmth filling him. His gaze trailed to Tony's empty glass, a clear smile spreading on his face. "Not much of a 'wuss' drink after all, huh?"

Dark eyes observed the man before them. Bruce's smile was delightful. A real one from him was rare. But maybe that's why it looked so good on him. Was he staring? Oh, hell, he was. Tony blinked, finally registering what was said. "Can't always be right. Or can I?"

"Yeah, I'm not too sure about that." The last of the sun's rays kissed the skyline before giving in to the dark of night. This evening had a charm about it, one so undeniable that even the winds acclaimed its beauty with the sweetest of howls. The cracked windows let in a bit of the brisk air, cooled further by the earlier rain.

…

The minutes ticked by, and Tony had discussed his space adventure (or about as much as he could stomach) before Bruce had departed to make dinner. It had been a packed day. So much to think about, and so much not to. His mind was running a million miles a second, but for a while he could handle it, until it finally abated. It all faded when he stared into Pepper's eyes. Such beautiful, loving, devoted eyes. He swore they stared right through him. He swore they knew what had happened. But the sweet smile on her freckled face said otherwise. It hurt him, and he was glad it did. It meant he still had some scrap of a conscience. "Come to bed, honey. I'm cold," she beckoned, arms spread wide. He came to her and lied down. Satin sheets draped over them both, he held her close, talking about everything they could until sleep had its say on the matter. His eyes grew heavy and they shut.

But tonight, there was only one name on his lips. _"Bruce…"_


End file.
